I was full of anticipation and excitement for today’s ride. Even though I felt sad that this trip was about to come to an end I was eager to get going again – 45 km before we hit the centre of Cotonou, another 30km from there to the Seme border post and then another 40km before we reach the Whispering Palms resort in Badagry for our last night on the Ride for Polio.
After leaving Ouidah at first light we reached the outskirts of Cotonou in good time. The closer we got to the centre of Cotonou the more the traffic started to build up. It turned out to be a pretty noisy and crazy affair. Small motor cycles came out by the thousands to add the countless un-road worthy trucks and taxis. Noise pollution taken to a whole new level.
Eventually we reached the centre of Cotonou and I was now starting to have some serious hunger pains. The hunger however was soon forgotten when all of a sudden I saw two small motorbikes collide and people being flung in different directions. While no one seemed to be seriously injured (other than some bruised egos), what followed wasn’t pretty. A big argument (all in French) ensued and then the policeman on duty decided it was his turn to show that he was in charge. The next moment he started hitting the cyclist who seemed to have been at fault while everybody else stood by watching the punishment being dished out to the poor bloke making a living by transporting people on his bike. I could hardly believe my eyes. I wonder how this would go down in other parts of the world...
My hunger pains may have disappeared temporarily with all the early morning action but I was soon reminded that I had not yet eaten anything by the lack of energy I was having at that point in time. The next challenge was to find a suitable spot to stuff my face with food. After 2 hours of solid cycling since we left Ouidah and 50km on the clock we eventually found a shabby looking road side “breakfast” spot that had a big lipton sign. I just realised that I hadn’t had any tea since leaving Lagos 12 days ago and figured that if they sell tea that they must surely sell food also. And right I was...the owner made us a lovely 3-egg omelette on a bed of petit pois and tamato mix on his small gas stove (the fact that my food was too hot to eat when I got it made me comfortable about the hygiene factor – the environment was certainly not clean and by no means pretty by any stretch of the imagination). The food and the tea (with condensed milk) was great and was exactly what I needed to maintain a strong and consistent cadence until we reached the border.
After a relatively straight forward and effortless border crossing (my first ever at this border) we were back in Nigeria. I could hardly believe it. After so much cycling we had only 90km left before reaching Ikoyi but that would not happen until the following day. The next stretch of road was littered with police, immigration and custom check points. It became pretty frustrating after a few stops because it made it difficult for me to get into any sort of rhythm.
Our last few km for the day did not go without any drama. At one of the last custom check points I was duly acknowledged and waved through by the officials while “earning” their “income” for the day. About 1km later I noticed that Friday and Uzo were nowhere to be seen. They were probably stopped at the previous checkpoint I figured so I stopped cycling, sat down next to the road and waited for them to catch up with me. After about 20 minutes of waiting I became concerned that something may have happened that might require my intervention (would probably have made the situation worse than it already was). Thus I decided to cycle back to where I thought they may been held up. They were nowhere to be seen. After inquiring about their whereabouts, the officials told me that they had long since left in the same directions I was just coming from.
I was all alone with no money and no cell phone and I had no idea where my support vehicle was. The only thing I could think of doing was to continue cycling until I reach the Whispering Palms. This was no comfortable task –by now the traffic picked up and I was seriously concerned about my own safety judging by the way the big trucks and busses were flying past me from behind. I cringed every time I heard a big vehicle coming from behind hoping that it won’t be the last time I see daylight. Fortunately however I am still here to tell the tale.
Over an hour and half later and after cycling most of the remaining part of the day’s route all by myself on the busy Badagry-Lagos expressway, I eventually found my support vehicle with two occupants looking extremely pale, concerned but relieved that I was in one piece and still safe. What happened and how was it possible that we could have lost each other? I would not find out the answer until much later in the evening because by now I was too tired to be asking questions. All I wanted to do was to reach our final destination, have a cold drink and take a shower (Maslow was a clever guy!).
Given that I had no first-hand knowledge of the events which transpired during the 90 minutes ordeal experienced by Friday and Uzo, I have asked Uzo to make a guest appearance on my blog to tell his side of the story. Pretty funny! Check out the next blog!
Anyway, we eventually reached Whispering Palms and after taking a longer than usual time to check in to our room we settled down to shake off the dust from the day’s journey and muse over the last 12 days’ adventure.
What a privilege we have to be alive and well!
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